by Melissa Hill
“Liz, Tara’s here!” Eric called down the hallway, and Liz jumped. Shit! Tara – here – now? She was nowhere near ready!
“OK, I’ll just be a second!” she called back, hoping that her friend wouldn’t mind waiting a few more minutes.
She riffled through her wardrobe once more and eventually chose an ancient pair of black straight-leg trousers and a black chiffon top. A nice, safe but utterly boring option.
Having got dressed, Liz caught sight of herself in the mirror, not exactly thrilled by what she saw. Was it a fun night out or a funeral she was dressing for? She hoped against hope that Tara wasn’t dressed in one of those up-to-the-minute outfits she wore for nights out in the city and had toned down the style a little for rural Castlegate. But no, if anything, Tara would no doubt make double the effort at looking glam here – primarily with the express intention of getting up some of the more disapproving villagers’ noses!
Just then there was a soft knock at the bedroom door. “Liz?” she heard Tara call from outside. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” Deciding that she’d just have to make do, Liz went to the dressing-table and quickly began to apply some make-up.
Liz had been right about Tara’s chosen outfit. She entered the room wearing a flamboyant emerald and purple patterned top over skinny indigo jeans and stiletto boots. A shimmering purple headscarf held back her golden locks and, with her chunky beaded necklace and bohemian gold hoop earrings, she looked dazzling – an exotic butterfly to Liz’s garden-variety housefly.
All of this must have been written on Liz’s face because the very first words out of Tara’s mouth were: “What’s wrong?” She quickly raised a hand to her face. “Did I overshoot my lipstick?” she said jokingly. “Is my mascara running . . . what?”
Liz had to laugh. “No, no, you look perfect, stunning in fact. And I look like such a bloody frump beside you.” She sighed and stared again at her reflection in the mirror. “Tara, when did I turn into a middle-aged woman? No, I take that back – most middle-aged women look a million times better than I do these days.”
“Don’t be silly, you look great! Although, you could probably do with a little more colour. Here!” She quickly removed her sparkling headscarf and tied it jauntily around Liz’s neck.
Instantly the outfit came to life and Tara’s cheery optimism (and her nifty accessorising) had the effect of erasing all of Liz’s insecurities and buoying her mood.
“Oh, I couldn’t . . .” she began, wishing that instead of whinging about her lack of colourful clothes, she’d thought about accessorising what she had. But that was Tara, full of great ideas.
“Of course you can – it’s gorgeous on you,” Tara replied, waving away her protests. “Now, do you have a thick bangle, or some dangly earrings perhaps? Something like that and a pair of silver strappy heels, and we’re away!”
“Will these do?” Liz held up a pair of drop diamante earrings and Tara nodded her approval. Then, quickly finishing her make-up, Liz checked her appearance once more before they headed back out to the living room and said goodbye to Eric and Toby.
“Have a good night,” Eric said with a smile, and Toby, who didn’t seem in the least bit bothered that his mum was leaving him, waved half-heartedly as she went out the door.
So much for being indispensable, she thought wryly, as she and Tara went on their way. She’d thought that there’d be mighty histrionics when she went to leave. But, she supposed, this was even better – now she didn’t have to feel guilty.
Feeling happier and more confident than she’d been in ages, Liz followed her best friend down the driveway and prepared for a rip-roaring night out on the town.
As she and Liz made their way across the bridge to the centre of Castlegate village, Tara breathed an inward sigh of relief. This girly night out had been a brainwave. During the short walk from her house, Liz had been chatty, animated and was behaving much more like her old self.
Tara knew her friend seriously needed the opportunity to have fun and take her mind off things – especially her worries about Eric.
As well as worrying about her marriage, Liz was in all likelihood also feeling a little lonely and out of place while trying to settle into motherhood and life away from Dublin – which was understandable, really. It was plain to see that the move to the sticks hadn’t had yet yielded the lifestyle improvements she and Eric had anticipated – if anything it had been the opposite. And while it wasn’t as though the villagers here were clannish, Tara knew better than most that they were set in their ways and it could well be very difficult for a “stranger” to easily become part of this community.
At the moment, Liz was simply finding it difficult to adjust, but with a bit of time, she’d be fine.
Tara’s heart had gone out to her when she’d seen her standing in front of the mirror, her insecurities about her appearance written all over her face. Though she managed to conceal the fact, she knew at once that Liz had been worrying about what to wear, particularly as she and Eric had been trying to save money in order to do up the cottage, and Liz hadn’t gone clothes shopping properly since having Toby. And of course, she was still carrying the few extra pounds she’d put on while pregnant, which Tara understood didn’t particularly make you feel like a million dollars. For this reason, she’d insisted that Liz borrow her sparkly head-scarf and wear a pair of glam heels. When it came to boosting self-confidence, Tara was a firm believer in the power of fabulous shoes. Although perhaps some of the male clients she coached might not agree, she thought with a grin.
Now, if Liz were a client of hers, Tara would spend time helping her realise that she was feeling insecure and worried because she was finding it hard to settle and could very well be expressing these feelings as anxieties about her marriage. But Liz wasn’t a client, so it was doubly important for Tara to refrain from using her coaching techniques in this regard.
Instead, she’d try to do what any decent friend would, and just be there to cheer Liz up and make her feel better about her troubles, rather than try to solve them for her. Liz wouldn’t appreciate being “coached” by her best friend and it would be wholly unethical for Tara do so, although it was frustrating watching her wrestling with her insecurities like that. And she had enough on her plate at the moment coaching Natalie – although she wasn’t really a friend. She was more of a close acquaintance, really, which is why Tara had eventually acquiesced to helping her out, albeit in a less formal coaching scenario. Still, tonight would be good for Liz, and despite her earlier concerns about her wardrobe, she now seemed raring to go.
Tara looked at her watch. “I booked The Steakhouse for seven thirty, so we’ve still time to get in a quick drink in The Bridge beforehand.”
“Great, I’m absolutely starving, but I wouldn’t mind a drink to kick things off.”
“Now, now, take it easy, you,” Tara scolded good-naturedly. “It’s been a while since you’ve done this, remember?”
“I know and I think that’s half the problem,” Liz grinned. “It’s been so long since I’ve been out, I can barely remember what the inside of a bar looks like.” She pushed open the entrance of the pub and Tara followed her inside. “No, hang on – I think it’s coming back to me!” she added with a delighted wink and sounding much more like the old Liz.
The two took a seat at the bar and Tara promptly ordered a glass of champagne for Liz and asked the barman to fill another glass with sparkling lemonade for herself. Liz had been thrilled at this little luxury but the champagne flutes caused much consternation amongst some of the locals present, who thought it outrageous altogether that these two glamour-pusses should be drinking champagne like celebrities (despite the fact that Tara was having mere lemonade). And one of them supposedly married and with a baby! Who did they think they were?
Keenly aware of the stir they were creating, the two girls grinned at one another as they clinked glasses and drank to a good night out, Tara remembering too late that her showy antics had probably
scuppered any chance Liz had of fitting in here now! But these begrudgers weren’t the kind of people her friend would want to get to know anyway. Quick to criticise and even quicker to judge, that was most of the older inhabitants of Castlegate, and Tara had spent much of her adult life trying to rise above it.
“Hello, Tara – isn’t it well you’re looking these days?” said a male voice from behind them.
Tara looked around to see Dave McNamara, yet another old school-mate of hers, approach the bar.
“You, too, Dave,” she replied warmly. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Not too bad.” Dave nodded a greeting at Liz, whom evidently he didn’t know.
“This is Liz McGrath,” Tara said, remembering her manners. “Liz, meet Dave – he was in the same class as me and Eric. Dave – this is Eric McGrath’s wife, Liz. She runs the boarding kennels across town.” She was extra careful to give Liz’s business a bit of a mention, seeing as Dave was not only the local councillor but also head of the Castlegate Heritage Committee. As a result he was hugely influential in the village and could possibly put some business Liz’s way.
“Pleased to meet you, Liz. How is Eric these days? Keeping well, I hope.”
As Dave flashed Liz his best politician’s smile, Tara hid a grin. A notorious womaniser when they were younger, it was no real surprise that Dave McNamara had ended up employing his legendary charm in politics.
“So can I get you two ladies a drink?” he asked, nodding at the barman.
“Thanks, but no, you work away,” said Tara. “We’re moving on soon.”
Dave stood alongside them at the bar as he waited for his pint. “So, I hear that Emma’s moved back from Dublin and returned to the Castlegate fold,” he said conversationally to Tara. “Any sign of yourself doing the same?”
“No fear of that. Anyway, after all this time I don’t think Castlegate would be able for me. Oh, by the way, congratulations!” she said, remembering. “I hear you got engaged recently?”
Dave nodded proudly. “I did indeed. I’ll bet you’re sorry now you missed the boat! I tried my best with this one a long time ago,” he said to Liz, who looked perplexed, “but she didn’t want to know, so eventually I had to look elsewhere.”
“And look elsewhere you did – everywhere else!” Tara joked, while Dave looked bashful.
“Better not let my other half hear that – she’s from out of town and knows nothing about my sordid history.”
“Well, she’s probably better off.” Tara was enjoying teasing him. “But I hear she’s lovely, and rumour has it she’s also the right one to keep you on your toes! Have you set a date for the wedding?”
“Sometime next year – after the next election anyway.”
Tara smiled. “Of course.”
Dave picked up his newly poured pint. “Well, I better head away now and let the two of you get back to your night out. It was nice seeing you, Tara – and you too, Liz.”
“Good seeing you too.”
When Dave was out of sight, Liz raised an amused eyebrow. “He’s right,” she said, eyes widening, “I think you did miss the boat where he’s concerned. He’s very cute.”
“Not my type,” Tara said, “but unfortunately it took him a very long time to get the message. Even up to a couple of years ago he was still trying it on, and as a result Glenn can’t stand him.”
“I can imagine.”
Tara grinned. “I suppose I could view it as some form of weird victory that I’m about the only girl in the town he hasn’t ‘conquered’ over the years! I think he even fancied his chances with Emma at one stage,” she added, recalling her sister’s recent disparaging remarks about Dave. “Anyway he’s engaged now, so the women of Castlegate are finally safe – or sorry, depending on who you ask,” she added wryly.
Soon after, they decamped to The Steakhouse where for close to two hours they enjoyed a thoroughly satisfying girly chat over steaks the size of Texas.
“This was a brilliant idea, Tara,” Liz said, taking another sip from her wineglass. “I didn’t realise how much I missed this kind of thing. I suppose I took it all for granted before I had Toby. Not that I’d change things for the world,” she added quickly, “but sometimes it’s nice to just be me again, not just somebody’s mum.”
“I know. You and Eric should try and do it more often too. I know it’s hard, what with him working all hours and that, but you two spending time together as a couple is important too.”
Liz’s looked wistful. “You know, I can barely remember what it was like before we had Toby. How easy it was just to go out to dinner or the pub on the spur of the moment. Now, it’s such a military operation that you think it’s hardly worth it.”
“It’s always worth it.”
“You’re right. Eric and I should do more things like this. But he’s been so wrapped up in work, and I’ve been so wrapped up in the dogs and Toby, that we can’t raise the energy at weekends. Not to mention raise any baby-sitters – other than yourself, of course,” she added with a smile. “Maeve is no help and . . .” Letting the rest of her sentence trail off, Liz suddenly set down her wineglass. “Do you know something?” she said, and Tara could hear her voice slur a little from the effects of the wine, which she had of course been drinking on her own.
“What?”
“I’ve been acting like such an idiot lately whinging about Eric and thinking that he would cheat on me! If I really thought about it properly, instead of just jumping to conclusions, then I’d realise that he would never do something like that to me. For God’s sake, it’s not all that long since we had Toby.”
Tara wished with all her heart that her friend was right.
“I have to stop feeling sorry for myself like this,” Liz went on, after taking another sip from her wineglass. “I have to stop worrying about things and try and be more confident about things – like you. I think I might just talk to Eric about it when we get home and –”
“Liz, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea – not tonight anyway. Why not wait until both of you are sober, and you have your wits about you?” Tara was mindful of the fact that Eric could very well come right out and admit that he had been having an affair. And that would be a complete disaster.
“I suppose, but I really want to clear the air and find out what’s really bothering him, instead of making up all these stupid scenarios in my head.”
“Seriously, I would wait until tomorrow, at least,” Tara persisted. “For when you’re fully sober.”
“Maybe you’re right. But Tara, I have to get it out of my head. It’s been driving me mad lately. I’m so miserable and emotional and . . .” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I thought this move would be a good thing for us. I thought that getting out of Dublin and having a quiet life down the country would be brilliant. But it’s not. And I don’t know whether the problem lies with me or with Eric or with both of us.”
“Well, I’m sure you two will get to the bottom of it but there’s definitely no point in trying to solve anything tonight. And speaking of getting to the bottom, look at all the wine you’ve drunk!” Tara said jokingly.
“You’re right – who knows what kind of rubbish I’d start spouting!” Liz replied, picking up the bottle and looking surprised at the amount of wine she’d taken.
“Here, have some of this,” Tara said, pouring a glass of water for her. “We’ve still got a few hours of this night left, and I don’t want you wimping out on me before time!”
“Thanks, Tara, you’re a pal,” Liz grinned and took a huge gulp of the water. “But if anything, I’m glad I got that off my chest. Now that I did I can’t believe how pathetic it sounds. Eric having an affair – imagine!” Liz gave an amused roll of her eyes and tucked into the remainder of her dessert.
Chapter 22
After dinner, the girls moved on to the pub for one more drink before returning home.
Liz felt on top of the world. It was as though a huge weight had been l
ifted from her shoulders when she’d finally realised how stupid and paranoid she was being.
But Tara was right. There was no point in talking to Eric about it, especially not tonight and maybe not at all. Instead, she’d just try and get back to her normal self and try not to read something into his every move or utterance.
What had made her distrust him so much in the first place? A few nights out and a text? Big deal – that could happen to anyone. No, she’d talk to Eric about maybe downscaling their plans for the renovations, which would hopefully allow him to work less and stay home more.
And she might bite the bullet and go to some group or club in order to meet some more people from the community – or network, as Tara might say. And if she ended up getting some more business from the locals, then the kennels might bring in the extra cash they needed.
Fully determined to put her worries behind her and her marriage back on track, Liz followed Tara into The Wishing Well, a lively but comfortable pub situated right in the centre of the village. It had already been a highly enjoyable night, and she was delighted Tara had made her agree to it.
“A white wine spritzer and a Coke, please,” Tara told the barman.
While they were waiting for their drinks to be served, Liz looked up and spied a familiar face sitting alone at the opposite end of the bar.
“There’s Luke,” she cried excitedly to Tara. “And look, he must be here on his own. Let’s go over and say hello.”
“Ah no, Liz, let’s leave it.”
“Why?” Liz gave her a strange look. It wasn’t like Tara to be unsociable.
“It’s . . . well, maybe he wants to be on his own.” Tara paid the barman and picked up their drinks.
“I doubt it. He’s only new in town, so he probably doesn’t know anyone. I’m going over to say hi, anyway. He’s my next-door neighbour, and I don’t want to be rude.”
“Oh, all right then.” Tara picked up her drink and grudgingly followed her over.